Thermometers and Head Trauma
by Vienna Warren
Summary: Dean gets a cold while on a hunt for a ghoul which then develops into bronchitis. He tries to hide this from both Sam and Cas, to no avail. Reviews and suggestions are much appreciated.
1. Chapter 1: Bratty Teenagers

Phillip Diamandis pulled into his fiancé's driveway, exhausted. It had been a long day on the job. He was an assistant principal at the local high school and was forced to suspend two teenagers in one day. They had been fighting over gummy bears, for god's sake. _Gummy bears_. Phillip had a specialist's degree in two sciences, yet he would never understand the way an adolescent's mind worked.

The man neatly parked his Honda Civic in the garage and removed the key from the ignition. Feeling like he weighed a hundred pounds, Phillip dragged himself out of the driver's seat and wrestled his satchel around his shoulder. Not wanting to think of all the paperwork he'd have to file the following day, he slammed the door shut and pushed the thoughts out of his head. Instead, he focused on his fiancé's daughter, Lacey. She was a freshman this year and the sweetest one, at that. What with her outgoing personality and dazzling smile, she was nearly perfect at everything, including drama and dance. Her teachers never ceased to talk good of her and her grades were fantastic. Phillip never imagined he'd want kids, but Lacey completely changed his mind. Grinning now, he opened the door and stepped inside.

In seconds, all his belongings were dumped on the kitchen table. "Lacey?" he called up the stairs. Hearing no answer, he assumed she busy doing homework or perhaps not home from rehearsals yet. Phillip turned around and nearly ran into his step-daughter. "Oh, Lace!" he exclaimed, stepping back. "You scared me."

Lacey brushed a piece of brown hair behind her ear and smiled warmly. "I did?" She threw her arms around him. "Did you have a nice day at work?"

Phillip sighed. "Actually, it was-" His words were cut off by the girl abruptly slashing his throat with a large kitchen knife. Instead of complaining to his wife-to-be's daughter, he was slumped on the tiled floor, blood gushing from his neck. Phillip gagged, trying to speak. "Oh, don't talk. _Please_." Lacey said, rolling her eyes.

* * *

It was Wednesday morning and Sam Winchester was drinking coffee and reading the newspaper headlines for anything interesting. "_Jealous Gummy Bear Loving Teens Get Suspended_" screamed one article, causing the young man to chuckle. Another headline, however, made him stop laughing immediately. "_Local Man Killed, Step-Daughter Missing and Invisible Killer on the Loose?_"

After Sam had finished reading the article, his older brother, Dean, stumbled into the apartment's kitchen. He sniffed. Sam glanced up from the newspaper and recoiled in horror. "Uh, dude? You look... like shit."

Dean rolled his eyes. "And you have coffee breath."

It was true though. Dark shadows were hiding underneath his green eyes and he was obviously flushed, spots of crimson painted across his cheeks; his freckled nose was tinged pink. Sam cocked an eyebrow and pursed his lips. "Are you sick?"

"What kind of dumbass question is that? Of course not." Dean told him gruffly, sitting down at the table. His brother gave him one more disbelieving look before continuing. "Okay, well, call your angel. I think we have a case."

"_My_ angel? Why's he got to be my angel?" he grumbled, but complied. "Cas? Get your feathery ass down here. Sam says he found us a-"

"Case?" the angel finished for him. He was sitting at the table, next to Dean. The man jumped. "Cas?! Don't do that!"

Castiel squinted. "I don't see what you are referring to, Dean."

Sam cleared his throat. "Anyway, there's this man, Phillip Diamandis, who was killed in his home last week. They don't know who the murderer was, so they've dubbed him 'The Invisible Killer'."

This earned both an eyeroll and a sneeze from Dean.

"His step-daughter, Lacey, has apparently been kidnapped. They haven't seen for seven days and the town's been searching since her disappearance. I'm thinking we should talk to the fiancé."

Dean nodded. "Absolutely right." He coughed a little and cleared his throat. Castiel narrowed his eyes. "Dean, are you-"

"No!" the older brother shouted hoarsely, scooting back his chair so as to avoid Cas' hand, which was making a beeline for Dean's forehead.

"You seem fevered." the angel noted, reaching forward again. Dean gently slapped his hand out of the way. "I'm fine."

Sam sighed. It was just like his brother to ignore his own well-being. "I'm going to shower." Dean announced, quickly getting up and walking towards the bathroom. "_Heh... atchoo!"_

"Bless you!" Sam called cheerily.

"Shut up!" his brother yelled back.


	2. Chapter 2: Three Agents and a Victim

"Cas, make sure your badge is right side up." Dean advised, chuckling lightly. He soon realised his mistake as his laughter quickly evolved into a coughing fit. Sam gave him a concerned look. "Are you sure-"

"It's just the dust in the air." his brother informed him. Castiel frowned. "Currently, we are on a front porch. The amount of dust particles in the air would not be enough to cause you to cough. Therefore, it must be something else."

Dean was saved from answering him by the woman who opened the front door. Like most of the victim's families, her eyes were red-rimmed and watery and her hair was a train wreck; strands of blonde fluff were sticking up in every direction. She was clad in a floral bathrobe. "Y'all must be the FBI." she sniffed. Right on cue, the three men held up their badges as proof. Sam spoke. "This is Agent Florence, Agent Spektor and I'm Agent Nash."

The oldest Winchester's nose wrinkled and he hastily turned away to sneeze.

"Come in."

* * *

Soon enough, they were all seated in the woman's living room. She had made them each a cup of tea, to which Dean was eternally grateful. The hot water soothed his sore throat as he swallowed. The tea left a mildly spicy after taste in his mouth. He smacked his lips loudly, earning a disapproving glare from Sam. "So, Mrs. Lambrini," he began, "tell us about your daughter and fiancé."

The woman sighed heavily and immediately reached for the brightly coloured tissue box on the table. "My daughter's name is Lacey. She's the absolute sweetest girl in the world. And my fiancé, Phillip. I guess I met him about two years ago. We first locked eyes in a Starbucks; he'd spilled his cappuccino all over his suit and I'd offered him a napkin." Mrs. Lambrini gave the men a watery smile. "He was always so clumsy."

Castiel nodded, like this was crucial information, and started to write in his notebook. It took all Dean's effort not to roll his eyes.

Sam gave her a grim smile. "On that night, Tuesday was it? You came home to find...?"

"A mess. A big bl-bloody mess." Her voice shook with emotion. "Phillip was there, on the floor surrounded in a pool of his own blood. I called the police and then searched for my child. She was nowhere to be f-found." she cried, grabbing another twenty tissues.

"_Hehh... KSHchhh!_" Dean let out a strangled sneeze and then attempted to stifle another. "_Huhkchhh!_"

"Bless y-you." Mrs. Lambrini dabbed at her eyes tearfully and handed Dean the box of tissues. Sam smirked to himself and continued. "Where either of them acting strange? Different in any way the days prior to the murder?"

"Phillip was his usual sm-smiling self. L-Lacey was too, except..."

"Except?" Cas interjected, still scribbling on a sheet of paper.

"She had skipped classes the day before. I actually didn't think much of it, to be honest. She and her theatre friends were all practising for the school musical, _Little Shop of Horrors_, which is on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. I figured she was nervous and needed a day off." she said, seeming to get control of her emotions.

"You allowed her to stay home that day?" Dean confirmed, nose buried in a tissue.

"Yes." Mrs. Lambrini nodded. "Does that add to your case?"

"We think it might." Sam explained. "Every little detail is important to us. Is Lacey typically a 'trouble child' at school?"

"N-no. She has all A's and has a passion for s-singing and acting. Her dancing will take your breath a-away." The woman suddenly broke into uneven sobs, her face in her hands. Dean coughed and clearly his throat.

"Okay, ma'am. I think we've got enough information." he told her awkwardly, snatching another tissue and blowing his nose.

The men stood up, heading towards the door.

"F-feel better, dear!" she called out to Dean. He blushed and hurried out the door towards the car. As he pulled away, Castiel studied the man in the rear view mirror. "Dean, your face is flushed and your brow is dotting with sweat, common symptoms of a fever. I suggest taking your temperature with a-"

"I'm fine." Dean said, rubbed his nose and trying not to sneeze. "Oh yeah?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "Really, you're fine?"

"_HahCHISch_!"

"That's what I thought." Sam announced, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "When we get home, I'm taking your temperature and you're gonna have a nice dosage of some NyQuil."

* * *

**AN - Okay, I'd just like to thank everyone who favourited, followed or even simply read my story. I never thought people would actually enjoy it! If you have any comments, suggestions or complaints, leave them in the comments! :) Thanks you guys!**


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